


Andreia

by wildestranger



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestranger/pseuds/wildestranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the novel, Laurie and Ralph meet for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Andreia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trueriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trueriver/gifts).



Laurie stepped into the carriage, gave a brief nod to the woman occupying the other row, and settled down next to the window. The sky was dark by now, the last remnants of December sun disappearing quickly behind the station building. They had waited at Swindon Junction for the better part of two hours, but Laurie did not mind too much. He had finished the last of his sandwiches and enjoyed a cup of tea in the famous refreshment rooms, and his boots had had time to dry.

This would be the final stage of his journey. They would, the conductor had said, arrive in Bristow in less than an hour.

Ralph was not meeting him at the station. They had had an argument over this; Laurie had pointed out that it would be foolish for Ralph to ask for time off just to see him arrive when he could easily find his way to the flat himself, but Ralph had wanted to be there to welcome him home (and carry his bags, and hold his arm in case he slipped on the wet ground) – it would be the first time they had seen each other since the summer. But because it was the first time in a long while, Laurie had wanted to meet Ralph at home where he could give him a proper greeting.

Ralph’s last letter had told him about their plans for Christmas; a piece of gammon that Ralph had exchanged for all his egg rations for the last three months (it was no hardship to go without since he didn’t like eggs, Ralph had said) and some fresh fish from a friend whose brother had a fishing boat. Ralph had told him about these special treats because he wanted Laurie to enjoy the pleasure of anticipation, to know that there would be a proper celebration for the two of them. Laurie had thought about mentioning the sugar he was bringing as a treat for Ralph, which he had been saving since September. But Ralph would have told him to use it on himself, and so Laurie’s contributions would be a surprise.

His suitcase, slotted under his seat and held in place with one precarious leg, held all the sugar he had managed to save as well as two bottles of wine (exchanged with his neighbour in college for all his egg rations - Laurie didn’t dislike eggs like Ralph did, but wine was better) and several pounds of fresh venison, a surprise gift from his Greek tutor whose father had a hunting lodge in Northhumberland. Dr Howard was a youngish man with a mysterious illness that had kept him from the war. While this fact did not visibly distress the man, it had caused a few murmurs among his students, and his sarcastic manner did not make him popular among them. Laurie enjoyed his lectures better than his tutorials; Dr Howard had a rough voice which suited Homeric poetry but made his contempt for the incompetence of undergraduates more difficult to bear. He had not seemed impressed with Laurie’s work thus far, and it had been a surprise to be offered a glass of port and a well-wrapped package of meat at the end of a two-hour discussion on Plato’s _Symposium_. “I’m afraid I have no taste for meat so might as well pass it on,” Dr Howard had said. “I hope your family will enjoy it.”

Laurie had explained that his mother was playing hostess to a large number of her new husband’s relatives, and that they had agreed it would be best if Laurie were to visit in the New Year. He would spend Christmas with a friend in Bristow. But his friend would be pleased with the venison, he was sure.

Dr Howard’s mouth had twitched ( _sarcastically_ , thought Laurie, then told himself to stop being silly) and he had said, “Of course, I hope he will.” They had not said more of it, and Laurie had been both relieved and slightly disappointed not to be asked about his friend. It was likely, he thought, that Dr Howard had understood in any case.

Less than an hour, now, till he would see his friend. Laurie leaned back on his seat, and thought _soon, soon, soon._

* * *

The flat was not large; one bedroom, a sitting room which officially doubled as a second bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a tinier hallway. The bathroom was shared with two old women who lived below. It was a good place, nevertheless, and Ralph was accustomed to making tight quarters seem larger. When Laurie had last been here, many months ago, there had been little in the way of furniture. One sturdy bed, a daybed mostly used as a sofa, two mismatched chairs and a low, rickety table. Now there was a desk next to a bookcase, almost full, and a small dining table with a red tablecloth. It looked comfortable and warm; a good place to live in, or come home to.

Ralph was in the kitchen when he arrived. Laurie heard something cooking, and a radio playing quietly in the background.

“Is that you, Spud?”

Laurie smiled at the sound of his voice, for a moment ridiculously happy. He left his suitcase by the table and went into the kitchen, his coat still on.

Ralph was standing by the hob, stirring something in a small pot. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up, exposing the movements of his muscles to Laurie’s gaze as his hands maneuvered the spoon. There was a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, and one fair lock had escaped from his ridigly combed hair. Laurie felt the ridiculous smile welling up inside him again.

“Hullo,” he said, a wealth of fondness in his voice. He decided he did not mind that.

“Hello, Spud,” said Ralph, and reached out his arm. Laurie stepped into him, careful not to jostle the hand that still stirred the pot, and pressed his face to Ralph’s neck. They stayed like that for a moment.

Then, “Come now, let’s have a proper greeting...There, I’ve missed you.”

It was a while before they spoke again.

“How was the train?”

“Fine. They didn’t keep us waiting too long.”

“Good, good. Still, you must be tired. Why don’t you go and unpack your things, and make yourself comfortable? Dinner will be ready soon. There is space for you in the closet.”

“We have a closet?”

“We have a nice, clean, new closet. A friend of mine is a carpenter, and was able to make one just to our specifications. Go and have a look.”

Ralph nudged him with his shoulder, and Laurie resisted the urge to nudge back, to burrow into Ralph’s side again and never leave. _I would rather stay here and look at you all night_ , he thought. Then, deciding to be impulsive, he pressed a brief kiss to the corner of Ralph’s mouth and stepped back to the sitting room, his hand trailing Ralph’s side as he went.

* * *

Their dinner was soup, supplemented by some of the wine Laurie had brought. Ralph had merely nodded when shown Laurie’s provisions; the tale of the venison had merited a twitch of the eyebrow. But he was interested to hear more about Dr Howard, and Laurie’s studies.

“He is not a coward, at least not in the way we would think of one.”

Laurie paused, considering how to precisely explain his meaning. It was important, for some reason, that Ralph understood that there was no truth in the sneering comments made by some of the other students.

“What’s his illness, then?” Ralph’s voice was polite, interested but not too curious.

“I am not sure. No one knows, really, but I don’t doubt that there is one. He moves like a man who has lived with an injury for a long time.

“Many injured men serve in the war,” Ralph pointed out, reasonably, but something in his tone made Laurie want to speak carefully. There were treacherous waters here.

“I suspect that he would if he could, but since he can’t, he doesn’t want to make a fuss about it. And he knows what they say about him, but doesn’t do anything to stop them.”

Ralph smiled, cynicism mixing with amusement on his face. This was not to be a dangerous topic after all, it seemed. “And what could he do?”

“Indeed.”

Ralph poured some more wine.

“The icebox isn’t very dependable, I’m afraid, so we’d best eat the meat soon. I have some brandy that would make a fine sauce.”

He said it matter-of-factly, as if there was nothing remarkable in a grown man and a naval captain concerning himself with the making of a fine sauce. Laurie didn’t doubt that for Ralph, there wasn’t. He was enough of a social animal to understand how others might have perceived it, but that would have been noted, and then ignored. Necessity, and Ralph’s pride in his own competence, would have been valued over convention.

The wine was making Laurie warm and drowsy. He smiled into his glass, then smiled at Ralph whose shirt-sleeves were still rolled up. His throat was bare as well, and Laurie could see the movement of bones and muscle under his skin as he drank. Laurie took another sip, wetting his mouth. Suddenly, he could not look at Ralph.

“I’m feeling awfully tired, I’m afraid. I think I’d better go to bed.” Laurie heard the clink of Ralph’s glass being put down. He looked up. Ralph was smiling, fond.

“Of course, my dear. I will clean up here, you go ahead.”

* * *

The bedsheets were a little clammy, but they would soon warm. Laurie had spent a moment debating whether to put on his pyjamas, but the cold draught coming through the window had decided the matter. He waited in the dark, curling and uncurling his toes, his heart beating too fast.

When Ralph came in he was quiet, pushing the door open slowly, his feet positioned carefully so as to keep the floorboards from creaking.

“Ralph?” said Laurie, unable to wait any longer.  
“Did I wake you, Spud? Go back to sleep, I’ll be quiet.”  
“No, I...you didn’t wake me, I wasn’t asleep.”  
“Don’t worry, then. The wind will die down soon and it’ll get quieter.”

Laurie listened as Ralph undressed in the dark.

“Come to bed.”

Ralph’s chuckle caught in his throat. He was suddenly a lot closer.

“Really, Spud, and here I thought...” his words were lost as Laurie pushed him down and silenced him with his mouth. Ralph was still laughing, but his hands came up to pull Laurie in, sliding up into his hair and down to his waist. He was so warm, and Laurie couldn’t help pressing himself closer, rubbing his leg against Ralph’s calf, trailing his hands over all available skin. “Oh, my love.”

Then Ralph began to move, and Laurie couldn’t think anymore.

* * *

Laurie woke to a cold bed and a quiet flat. He had a memory of Ralph kissing his cheek before sliding out of bed and leaving for work; Laurie stilled for a moment, trying to relive the feel of it, the jolt in his belly that always accompanied the thought.

There were many hours to be filled before Ralph would come home. Laurie had had a vague thought of tidying up the flat, but of course there was no need - no possession of Ralph’s would dare to get dusty. He made a pot of tea and sat down with his books: Plato’s _Laches,_ with a commentary by Benjamin Jowett. They had worked on the translation earlier in the year, but there was something about the discussion on bravery that Laurie thought might be useful for Thucydides next term.

He had had two pots of tea and a sandwich by the time Ralph came home. Laurie didn’t hear him until a warm hand settled on his shoulder.

“Look at you, Spud.”

Ralph had come to stand behind his chair; Laurie leaned back, tilted his head up.

“Hullo, Ralph.”

Light fingers twitched upon his neck. Laurie thought about turning his head, pressing his mouth there. He stood up instead.

“Shall we go for a walk, or is it too cold?”

Ralph’s eyes were tired, but he nodded, and smiled. Laurie had a brief thought of sending Ralph wandering all across the city for the rest of the night, just to see if he would. He took a deep breath, and smiled back instead.

“We don’t have to, if you’d rather not. I know you’ve had a long day.”

“No, of course, I don’t mind. You’ve been cooped up here all day. And there’s a new pub near the hospital we could try.”

“Is Alec still working here?”

“Yes, although I haven’t seen him much. They’ve been giving him night shifts - unmarried doctors, don’t you know.”

Laurie curved his mouth in an appropriately cynical grin. He brushed past Ralph to get his coat, barely touching him. There would be time, he told himself.

They walked by the river, unconsciously falling into their old routes. Winter made everything dark and cold, but Laurie barely noticed; he was seeing the Bristow of last summer, bright, cold days of following Ralph through the city, of trying not to think and feeling too much. He hadn’t wanted to speak, then, but it hadn’t helped.

“You know, when you call me Spud, it makes me think of school.”

“Hmm?”

“Boys will be boys,” Laurie quoted, attempting a ponderous tone, “but heaven defend us from Old Boys.”

Ralph’s laugh was brief and sincere. “Good God, has that been bothering you all this time? Of course, I’ll call you Laurie if you’d rather.”

“It’s not so bad, my dear,” said Laurie, his voice carefully carefree, “only it reminds me of my schooldays, and you are not my Head Boy anymore.”

“You would have been Odell when I was your Head Boy,” Ralph said. “Spud was the name I used when I...thought of you. A private nickname I had for you.”

Laurie felt his neck grow warm, ridiculous after all these years. He turned to smile at Ralph.

“Did you, now? Did you...think, of me, much?”

Ralph nodded solemnly. His eyes were bright and happy.

“I did.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Oh, many things. I couldn’t possible remember.”

“How unlike you to have a faulty memory.”

Laurie’s hand brushed Ralph’s, and they walked close as they found their way home.

Later, when Ralph was making the venison into a stew and Laurie was setting the table, Laurie asked: “Did you ever read Plato’s _Laches_?”

He had time to wonder whether he should have been careful not to raise the matter of Ralph’s missed university education, before Ralph answered. But his voice was thoughtful, as if recalling a memory.

“No, I don’t think I ever did. Is that what you’re reading now?”

“Yes.” Laurie straightened his back, and faced the kitchen. He could see Ralph’s back through the open door. “It’s about two old men, both sons of famous generals who haven’t done much with their lives, asking Socrates for advice on how to educate their sons. They want their sons to be brave and virtuous men, as they were never taught to be themselves. There’s a part in the beginning, though, just a brief mention, that they are living together, and raising their sons together. Two old men, respectable men from good Athenian families, living together.”

Ralph came to stand by the door. His forearms were bared again.

“Do you want to have children someday, Sp...Laurie?”

His voice was steady but there was a smile curling his mouth. Laurie huffed, shaking his head.

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

They looked at each other in silence for a while.

“All right, then.”

“All right.”

* * *

They ate the stew for two days, and shared the rest with the Misses Bradford downstairs. Ralph had only three days leave for Christmas, and Laurie made himself busy with his books. He read some to Ralph at night, and Ralph would laugh at his accent - his Greek sounded somehow Irish, Ralph said.

They went for walks and met Alec for a pint at the new pub. Laurie made Christmas pudding with all the sugar he had brought, but there was something wrong with his recipe and the final result was less sweet and more alcoholic then he’d planned. They ended up eating most of it anyway.

* * *

The fresh fish that had been promised, paid for, and meticulously planned failed to arrive on Christmas Eve. Ralph’s friend, sounding harried and only mildly apologetic, told him that his mother had taken ill and that he and his brother were taking the next train up north to see her. Ralph made no complaint, merely offered his sympathies as he finished the call. He then ran to the market to see if anything could be bought, but no amount of money or favours could buy a Christmas feast on Christmas Eve. Laurie said he didn’t mind, and Ralph nodded, and opened the second bottle of wine that Laurie had brought.

They sat down with the gammon and the remains of the Christmas pudding. Ralph’s shoulders, always already impossibly straight, were tight with tension. He made more use of his glass than his plate.

“I’m sorry, Spud. I know this isn’t what you expected.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“I should have made other plans, in case...”

“Ralph, I am not your wife.”

Ralph stopped talking. His eyes were suddenly sharp and scared. “No, but it’s my job to...”

“It’s not your job to provide for me, or feed me and buy me special treats, as if for a spoiled child at Christmas. That’s not what we are.”

Ralph took a deep breath and rapped his fingers on the table, twice.

“It’s not in my nature to not take care of you.”

“Yes, but I am not your child. I can’t be with you if you can’t see that.”

It wasn’t meant as an ultimatum, but the stricken look on Ralph’s face told Laurie that it had been taken as one. He let out a brief sigh, and stood up.

“Come to bed.”

Ralph’s smile was bitter. The light from their tiny gaslamp didn’t hide the tired lines of his face.

“You think sex is going to solve this?”

Laurie shook his head again, exasperated and fond. “No, Ralph. Come to bed.”

He held out his hand, and waited. Slowly, Ralph stood up.

“I don’t know what you think this will...”

Laurie tugged. “Come.”

They undressed in the dark. Laurie pulled back the covers and slid in first, then pulled Ralph close. For a moment they were silent, distracted by skin and heat and touch.

Then, “Will you let me take care of you?”

Laurie could all but hear Ralph considering, then discarding his responses. It was not in his nature, and he had never lost control with Laurie, his greater experience (and, Laurie guessed, what Ralph thought of as his greater affection) granting him responsibility over the proceedings. Laurie did not prod deeper, didn’t ask if Ralph trusted him, if he was willing to do this for Laurie. Such things would have been beneath them.

Finally, Ralph gave out a laugh. “Very well, Spud. Do your worst.”

The lightness of his tone, and the smile that Laurie could feel under his fingers, made it easier. Laurie rubbed his face against Ralph’s neck, and then rolled them over, pinning Ralph under his body. He pressed close and licked Ralph’s mouth.

“Oh, for you I’ll give my best. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

* * *

He woke to a warm cocoon, his face smushed against Ralph’s shoulder and his hand gripping Ralph’s side. Ralph was awake, his breathing deep and quiet. Laurie unclenched his hand, and brought it to cover Ralph’s heart.

“All right, Ralph?”

“All right, Laurie.”

Laurie rubbed his cheek on Ralph’s arm, and went back to sleep.


End file.
